


Kitten Negotiations

by cieldautomne



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, Kitten, M/M, Murder, Murder Husbands, Original Character(s), Pet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:54:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22225180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cieldautomne/pseuds/cieldautomne
Summary: After defeating the Red Dragon, Will and Hannibal ran away and settled in France.  A kitten adopts them.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 7
Kudos: 77





	1. Sea Bass Thief

After their fall off the cliff by Hannibal’s property and their unexpected emergence from the sea, Hannibal and Will came to a sort of uneasy and disquieting truce. As they made their escape on foot, and then by car, followed by boat across the Atlantic, they eventually stopped when they landed on the coast of France. 

Hannibal brought them both to a cottage off the beaten path by the sea in the mostly quiet seaside town of Quiberon. Will refrained from asking if it was another one of his unknown hideouts, and Hannibal exhibited a familiarity of the place as if he had been there to visit often in the past. 

There, they recuperated from their wounds. Three months past the death of the great red dragon, and Hannibal and Will had yet to address the fateful night’s event between them. Hannibal was keenly aware that Will had played a dangerous game of roulette with their lives when he had pulled them both into the sea, and Will, in his typical emotional reticence, had elected to pretend that there was nothing they need discuss.

Following their physical recovery, Hannibal had ventured out of the cottage to explore the town. Three days later, he found work as a pâtissier in a bakery and had begun a routine of going into work early in the mornings, and then coming home each evening to prepare dinner for the both of them before they retired to bed. 

Will’s journey to full recovery and “normalcy” was comparatively slower. The wound on his cheek left a surprisingly mild scar, courtesy of Hannibal’s excellent surgical skills and tender care. His shoulder still ached, but the pain was bearable. 

He spent the days when Hannibal’s at work, walking on the beach and fishing. While Hannibal brought home a steady income and the occasional baked treats from the bakery in which he worked, Will supplied seafood for their table from his meanderings at sea.

One fine sunny afternoon, when he had just packed up his fishing gear, he heard a pitiful squeak coming from inside the basket that he had used to store his catch. Turning to it, Will found a fluffy feline thief in the process of dragging away a sea bass three times its size.

“Hi there, little fella,” Will mused as he picked up the kitten by its scruff. The kitten could not have been more than six to eight weeks old, was grey in colour and had blue eyes too big for its head. It hissed menacingly at him and scratched his wrist in its struggle, but Will was undeterred. Looking around to see if he can spot any other cats in the vicinity, Will asked, “Where is your mother?”

The kitten hissed again, but after a couple of unsuccessful swipes at Will’s nose, it seemed to change tactics and begun to meow pitifully. 

“Hmm… you’re a clever little rascal, aren’t you? 

“Meew meew meew …”

Will paused, scanned the vicinity again for a possible parent for the theft, and when none appeared, sighed. 

“Meewr?”

Will bit his lip. The kitten stared at him. 

Another pause, and Will can feel his resolve melting, already imagining the many arguments Hannibal and he would have. Well, no one ever accused him of not being a pushover for fluffy critters.


	2. Shower Demon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal finds a surprise at home.

“Abel, remember to pick up the croissants and lemon tarts on your way out.”

Hannibal turned, smiled and gave a minute nod to his current employer, the very bubbly and middle aged Madeleine Bernier, owner of the St. Honore bakery. 

“Thank you, Madeleine. I will.”

He cleaned up his workstation, hung up his apron and picked up the package Madeleine had set aside for him before bidding his other colleagues goodbye for the day and exiting the shop.

On his drive back home, Hannibal stopped to pick up grocery for dinner, which included mushrooms, broccoli, carrots, onions and lemons. He was sure that Will would have caught fish and an assortment of shellfish for them, so he had elected to not include any protein in his purchase.

Arriving at their cottage, he parked his car and collected his bounty to be carried inside. He fully expected to put everything away and be able to start work on dinner and get it ready in an hour’s time. What he did not expect however was to hear a crash coming from the bathroom and Will yelling, “Stop!”

Not sensing any fear or danger in Will’s voice, Hannibal dropped his purchases on the kitchen counter and walked cautiously to the bathroom. Turning the knob and pushing the door open, Hannibal watched with bemusement as Will wrestled with a drowned blue demon and the shower nozzle in the cubicle strewn with knocked over shampoo and soap.

“Meeoowr!”

“Ow… stop it. Stop scratching me, you rascal!”

“Hisss! Hisss! Meooowr!” The kitten was tenacious, his ears bent and body crouched in protest. His grey fur was flatten post-wash and Will struggled to rinse the little demon in between scratches.

Hannibal chuckled. “Hello, Will. Are we resurrecting an old habit?”

Will turned and nearly hissed himself. “Hannibal…”

Hannibal arched an eyebrow and waited.

“Err… you’re home early.”

Another pause.

“Meoowrr!” 

For such a small creature, the blue rascal had an amazing capacity for destruction, as it launched itself towards Will’s shoulder and sunk his claws and fangs into the collar of his shirt. “Grrr… “

“Hey! Not the shirt,” Will protested and tried to extricate the fiend from his growling position.

“Do you need any assistance?” Hannibal queried as he moved to retrieve a clean towel from one of the cabinets in the bathroom. 

“Yes!” Will yelped. “Let go!” he addressed the kitten. “Come on. This is my favourite shirt.”

“It is not mine,” Hannibal returned.

“Not the time, Hannibal!”

“Mrrroooww …”

After several moments of careful extrication, Will dumped the wet kitten into the towel in Hannibal’s arms. His shirt had several holes down the front where the kitten had clawed through and an ugly tear where it chewed on. Looking down at the devastation, Will sighed and switched off the water. 

Hannibal carefully dried the kitten as Will cleaned up the shower cubicle. In between wipes, Hannibal looked at the curious creature in his arms and said, “Good job.”

From the cubicle, Will snapped, “I heard that.”


	3. Fashion Police

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The kitten settles in.

Following its bath and a session under the hair dryer to speed up the drying of its fur, the kitten calmed down considerably. It certainly did not hurt that Hannibal had managed to scrounge up some of Will’s catch from previous days and made a mix of boiled shrimps and sardines for the little fluffball.

The kitten was content to munch on its dinner on the kitchen floor while Hannibal worked on preparing his and Will’s dinner. The enthusiastic growls coming from the feline fluffball pleased Hannibal greatly, positive feedback for his cooking skills to provide for the palette of their feisty new guest.

Will had gone to shower and joined him after he deposited his wet clothes into the laundry hamper. Hannibal roasted sea bass with the assortment of vegetables he had brought home for dinner, and they sat down to eat at the dinner table with a bottle of Chardonnay to share between them.

Half way through his first few bites, Hannibal decided to broach the subject of the kitten. “So Will, what happened today to have you bring home our newest guest?”

Will paused mid-bite and looked up sheepishly. “Erm … well, about that.” 

Turning to observe the kitten currently grooming itself post-dinner, he continued, “I found her on the pier while I was fishing today. There were no other cats around and she was too young to fend for herself, so I took her home. Aside from the few initial hisses, she seems to not fear human contact.”

“Abandoned?” 

“Perhaps.” 

“Rude,” Hannibal remarked between sips of his wine.

Will turned and looked at him. “Yes.”

“What do you think we should do?”

“Hannibal…” Will paused at the gleam in Hannibal’s eyes. “We are not going to hunt down the people that abandoned this kitten and kill them.”

“Pity,” Hannibal remarked as he speared a broccoli on his plate.

“Meow!” Somehow, the kitten had climbed onto one of the empty chairs next to Hannibal and was looking up at him entreatingly.

“See,” Hannibal turned to her and smiled. “She agrees with me.”

Will scoffed and turned back to his dinner.

“Meow meow meow…”

“What’s wrong, little one? Are you still hungry?” Hannibal asked as the kitten migrated to his lap. He reached out to scratch the kitten under her chin.

“Mrrr… purr…”

“You like that.” More scratches followed.

“Purr…”

Will grinned at the sight of the great and terrifying Chesapeake Ripper petting a small defenceless kitten. If only he could take a picture, but alas, they were ‘dead’ fugitives and the less evidence to prove otherwise, the better.

“I checked her for fleas and injuries when I brought her home this afternoon. She is clean and healthy, but I will bring her to a vet tomorrow for a check-up to be sure.”

“Are you also going to procure supplies for her tomorrow?”

“Yes,” Will nodded. “We will probably do so after our visit to the vet.”

“If you are proceeding later in the day, I can join you after my shift ends at 4pm.” 

Will nodded. “We can wait for you at the café opposite the bakery tomorrow.”

The rest of dinner passed by peacefully, with Will and Hannibal discussing their day and their plans for the next, while the kitten purred contently on Hannibal’s lap. When dessert time came around, Will brought out the lemon tarts Hannibal brought home and served it. They found out the kitten disliked the smell of lemon, but loved the meringue that was on top of the tarts. 

“Slow down, little guy,” Will chastised as the kitten licked a spot of meringue off his finger enthusiastically. “I am not too sure if that much sugar is good for you.”

“Perhaps I should ask Madeleine for eclairs instead of lemon tarts to bring home tomorrow. Might be a safer option for her.”

“Nrrr… nom nom…” the kitten went as it tried to steal more meringue off Will’s lemon tart.

“Hmm… that is a good idea. Thank you.”

They moved on to clear the table after dessert and do the dishes together. Will washed and Hannibal dried. Halfway through the chore, Will noticed that the kitten was nowhere to be found.

“Hey, where did the kitten go?”

Hannibal turned from putting the dried cutlery away and looked around the kitchen. Sure enough, there were no sign of her, until a slight squeak was heard in the direction of the laundry hamper in the corner of the kitchen. He proceeded to check and found the kitten buried in it, doing its business on Will’s favourite shirt. 

Picking up the kitten by her scruff after she finished, Hannibal beamed. Will came over, eyed his ruined shirt and sighed. “I guess she really did hate that shirt.”

“Jólakötturinn,” Hannibal remarked out of the blue.

“Yola … what?” Will eyed him and the kitten, perplexed.

“Jólakötturinn, her name,” Hannibal repeated. “Jólakötturinn is a ferocious Yule cat beast from Icelandic folklore, tasked to devour any human who is not wearing new clothes on Christmas Eve.”

“Sounds like a vicious fashion police,” Will quipped, eyebrows raised at the story. “Anyway, we can’t name the kitten that.”

Hannibal turned to him and asked, “Why not?”

“Because it is too long,” Will protested. “And it is weird to name a kitten that.”

“No stranger than calling pets Meringue, Fluffball or Smoky,” Hannibal actually sounded hurt. The kitten just watched.

“Besides, Jólakötturinn is a majestic name, and she has discerning fashion taste.”

“Meew…” the kitten squeaked in agreement. Hannibal cooed and smiled when he turned to Will.

Will sighed. He already knew he was losing this battle.


End file.
